


This better not awaken anything in me...

by beanjournal



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Miya POV, Mutual Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanjournal/pseuds/beanjournal
Summary: Reki and Langa absolutely think they are sneaky enough to get each other off in their tiny shared room at the inn without anybody being the wiser. Miya is, unfortunately, extremely the wiser.Set the evening of Episode 6.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 9
Kudos: 184
Collections: Sk8 Infinity - Kink Meme





	This better not awaken anything in me...

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for this [kink meme prompt](https://sk8-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1329.html?thread=561#cmt561%22nofollow%22)
> 
> Thank you OP for being down for this POV swerve. I am not usually a writer but this show has me by the throat so here we are. 
> 
> Also, I wrote this right after reading mousapelli's "Say it Louder" and this could be considered a spiritual sequel depending on how audacious you think these boys are...

Miya doesn’t have much experience sleeping in unfamiliar places, let alone sharing sleeping space with other people. It’s not like he’s the top of anybody’s slumber party guest list, and realistically, no kiddie sleepover could have prepared him to share a tiny room in an extremely haunted inn with three people he’s not sure he’s willing to call his friends. But friends or not he chose to tag along and now here he is, shoehorned between Shadow and Reki with a jumble of skateboards and backpacks piled haphazardly at his feet. He has all but given up on sleeping, as each time his eyelids get heavy the walls of the inn groan and he has to concentrate on not shaking Shadow awake and making him check for ghosts. He doesn’t need to give anyone reason to treat him more like the kid he most certainly is not! Miya shuffles deeper into his futon and sighs, if he’s going to lie awake being haunted all night he may as well keep himself distracted. Not wanting to wake anyone up with the glare of his screen, he settles for jamming his earbuds deep into his ears and selecting a podcast, aiming for something dull enough to eventually knock him out. 

As he’s zoning out in the silence between episodes, Miya is startled back into an awareness of the room by a muffled whimper from the futon next to him. His mind rushes through a quick assurance that the room is still probably not full of ghosts and fumbles for a logical explanation to assuage his nerves. Reki must have rolled over on his injured arm in his sleep. He yanks one earbud out and quietly rolls over until he’s faced with Reki’s back. Intent on giving him a little shove, Miya freezes when the pitch of the whimper escalates to a breathy whine. He notices an accompanying soft, rhythmic rustling coming from Reki’s futon and feels blood rushing to his face. Attempting to calm the pulse pounding in his ears and the misplaced guilt at hearing something so private, Miya takes stock of the situation. First of all, Reki is the one who should feel embarrassed, not him! What is he thinking jerking it in a closet-sized room full of three people and at least one vengeful spirit? What an inconsiderate dumbass. Feeling more stable in his assurance that he has the obvious moral high ground here, Miya nonetheless hesitates. He should clearly put his headphones back in and wait for Reki’s totally unsubtle faux pas to be over. Or he could escalate the situation by interrupting him and handing these weird feelings back to him tenfold. He savors the thought of having something over on Reki and tells himself his hesitation is just deciding whether it would be more satisfying to interrupt him now or keep this humiliating moment in his pocket to bring to light later. But no, he’s already decided to do nothing and is increasingly aware of his breathing picking up speed to match Reki’s. 

As he chastises himself for hesitating, Miya hears another sound he hadn’t previously registered. A soft panting almost inaudible over Reki’s harsh staccato breaths. A complementary rustling slightly off-tempo from Reki’s gentle rhythmic movements. This is something else. Reki thrashes his head to the side as Miya is putting the reality of the situation together in his mind and just barely has the wherewithal to slam his eyes shut before he’s -- what? Caught? Is he the guilty party here? Miya’s head is spinning. When he tentatively reopens his eyes he finds they’ve adjusted more fully to the darkness. Reki’s head lolls back toward the far wall, back toward Langa, who is visible now, propped up slightly on his forearm and looking down at Reki. Their faces are so close and Miya can’t make out Langa’s expression for the curtain of his hair, but he’s sure it isn’t something he should be privy to. Langa noses at Reki’s hair and shudders. Reki makes a shushing noise to which Langa has the audacity to reply “don’t worry, they’re asleep.” This strikes Miya as absolutely infuriating but his body responds with a shiver of its own and he squeezes his legs together, squirming at his own rapt interest. 

This is way too much. Miya squeezes his eyes shut and tries to convince himself to put his earbuds in, or to get up and go to the terrifying toilet down the hall, thus breaking the spell over him and the room, but he can’t commit to any action other than straining to hear more and fidgeting his thighs against each other. Reki whimpers Langa’s name and convulses. Langa’s panting has taken on an erratic pace and the two of them seem to have descended deep enough into the fantasy of secrecy that all attempts at actually being secretive are long forgotten. Miya sees Langa seal his mouth over Reki’s and this is somehow the thing that shakes him. This is too intimate and no matter how stupid the two of them are being, he just can’t get over the feeling of intrusiveness that watching them kiss instills in him. He closes his eyes and gives in to the part of his mind that is trying to fill in the missing pieces of the picture. He listens to them kiss and breathe each other in and imagines their hands joined around their cocks, trapped between their torsos and sliding together at an increasingly frantic pace. He recalls Langa’s posture - propped up on one elbow - and realizes he is protecting Reki’s injured arm. Caging him in protectively from one side while Reki clings to him from the other, they appear completely engrossed in each other. Miya pictures their legs tangled together under the blanket, he pictures the sweat slipping between their thighs and before he’s conscious of it he finds his own hand sliding into his underwear and taking himself in hand. 

His imagination frustrates him as it has only his own meager experience as reference. He finds himself surprised by the things he wishes he could see. What are the differences between the ways Reki and Langa touch each other? Their respective paces and sensitivities? He only knows his own and projects it onto them as he begins to work himself in earnest. In spite of his inexperience, the dark room, and the incomplete picture, Miya feels like he is rocketing toward climax at a speed that would embarrass him if he weren't already too overwhelmed for it to register. The weight of shame as the voyeur - however unintentional - in the situation keeps him quiet and deliberate, while internally spiraling in furious intensity. He is spurred and stayed by the anxiety of being caught and he can't believe what this is revealing to him about himself. The image of Langa licking into Reki’s mouth flashes across the back of his eyelids and the desperate sound of one of them finishing - both of them? - has him biting down on the edge of his futon and spilling into his hand and all over the inside of his underwear. As his breath settles and the sticky heat in his palm cools Miya is abruptly aware of how stiflingly quiet the room is. Did they hear him? God he is so stupid. He had the upper hand and squandered it - what is wrong with him? He removes his hand from his waistband and wipes it on the futon as quietly as he can, and rolls onto his side, away from Reki and Langa’s side of the room.


End file.
